The Story of Candace: Experimental Vampire
by scarletswitchblade
Summary: Daughter of a slayer turned vampire tells of her life. How she became what she is today


The Story Of Candace: Experimental Vampire 

What am I? A New Yorker by birth, but that was fifty years ago. A vampire by fate, only thirty years past. A telepathic, a telekinetic by cruel experimentation. So there you have it. I'm A fifty year old telekinetic, telepathic, vampire New Yorker. Simple enough, wouldn't you say? 

I've always loved violence and bloodshed. Since the age of twenty I've needed blood to survive. I accept that. But I will not turn anyone else. For to be a vampire means to live forever, to watch your friends and family die. Unless of  course you turn them too, but why would you do that? Force them into a cold, cold world of bloodthirsty killers.

Now I may be a vampire but I'm special. You may have already noticed it. Other than that when I look at you I can know your whole life story. Other that that, if I wished, I could mentally tear each and every bone from your flesh. Don't worry about that last one. I save that torture for demons specially. No, I'm talking about my conscience. Don't ask me why but when Vera sucked me dry, when she made me drink her blood in turn, I retained my conscience. So every time I sunk my fangs into the neck of my prey, I felt guilty as hell. So I made a vow. I vowed never to kill an innocent human again.

Now you may think I've no right to decide who's innocent and who's not, and you may be right. But are you going to stop me? Didn't think so. 

In my twenty years as a human I was a hunter. Trained by my mother, the slayer, who, for her nine months of pregnancy, was protected by my father. My vampire father. Daddy was sired by a woman named Hope. A woman who, after he regained consciousness, he pierced her heart with a wooden stake and still despite his nature, protected my mother for he knew he was to be a father. 

Mom, still very in love, and grateful, agreed not to stake her love if he protected her and their child. So until I was twelve and deemed responsible this was how life went: Mom and I stayed human and asked n0o questions on where dad disappeared to or how he sustained himself.  Mother taught me how to fight, how to recognize a vampire, to improvise. Father gave me gifts and little bits of information. A necklace of fangs which I still wear today and blood jewels. 

But when I was twelve my father was kicked out. He understood and visited me often. I joined my mother on the hunt. Together we fought; a bonding process.  My mother grew old and I cared for her, taking her place. Then came my twentieth birthday.

Dad brought his girlfriend, Vera, to meet me. Her eyes popped out and she had said. "Your daughter is the Huntress?" "Yes," my father had replied. "But she will not go against my wishes if you do not harm anyone in front of her."

Two weeks later on the way to my father's I was ambushed. Ten vampires surrounded me, and I can proudly say nine of them bit the dust. Vera did not. Vera sired me. Then she was staked in the back by my father. Dad carried me back to my mother, apologized profusely, then took a stake to his own heart. Mom could not kill me yet she couldn't keep me. So just like that, the only two people I cared about abandoned me.

I knew what I had to do. The feeling was strong. I found a man in a club who made the mistake of asking me two dance. Then he made another mistake; shoving his tongue down my throat.  Pushing him off of me I grabbed his hair, exposing the sweet succulent skin of his neck. I bit into him sucking harder and harder until there was nothing left. 

Almost immediately intense pain washed over me. What had I done. I was horrible, a monster! My worst nightmare had come true I was a vampire. No, I couldn't have let this happen! But I had. I succumbed to the temptations. I had the blood lust. From then on I spent my nights either breaking into blood banks or walking into bullets, feeding of criminals. I hear some vampires go to butchers for pig's blood, but that sounds so unsanitary. Besides the real thing tastes ten times better than any substitute.

I remember clearly the day I was strolling down the street, in a town in the west coast. I had past a sign that said Welcome to  Sunnydale, so I guess that was the place.  Anyway, I was just strolling down the street, having come from a satisfying meal of three bank robbers, when a dart struck my left shoulder. Men in green and black uniforms  attacked me and the world faded into oblivion.

When I as next to wake I would be in a white holding cell in the Initiative, as they called it. As I awoke the airtight room filled with gas., which was fine with me because I don't normally breathe. My skin absorbed it turning a pale white, a far cry from the usual gingersnap, and I am told my eyes are speckled silver, not dark chocolate as I remember them. I started to hear things. I knew the name of the woman with the clipboard under her arm on the other side of the glass. Dr.Grace.  knew that she was pumping her soldier full of chemicals. Locked in here, deprived of the nourishment of blood, I also knew I would not last long.  

I decided that my last act would be a human one. I tried to breathe. This was a normal bodily function I had not performed in so long I was frightened to find myself sucking in air. But I was having trouble breathing out. My  lungs just wouldn't cooperate. This makes sense since I hadn't used them in twenty-five years.

I heard the woman thinking, 'Is she actually trying to breathe? That's not possible!'

Woozy as I was I managed to make a rather rude gesture toward her with my hand before passing out.

.*.*.*:*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*:*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* 

I was on an operating table. Those witch doctors were poking my brain with pointy metal objects! I would've sat up if I hadn't noticed the tube pouring blood into my mouth. To keep me alive (or is the word dead) until they were done. The blood ran out and I wanted more. Oh I _so _yearned for more. I could se it. The extra packet on the IV. Just a little closer. To my astonishment and utter delight the packet floated towards me. Whatever those Dr. Frankensteins were doing to my cerebellum, it must have been very engrossing because none of them saw what was going on.

One of them noticed afterward that there was a piece of plastic in my mouth. Very carefully, with long tweezers he extricated the empty packet studying the puncture marks on the side. "How did this happen?" he'd muttered to himself.

I knew and I decided to develop my powers, mystical as they were. I suppose I have the toxins to blame for my abilities because I later found out that there was a chip in my head to monitor my brain waves. Somehow I don't think that's what Dr.Grace and Co. had wanted the toxic gas to do, but I'm just guessing. 

So anyway, I started slowly, levitating my necklace, which is something I do quite often now when I'm upset. Unintentionally of course. Next I tried banging a clipboard against the glass when no one was looking, and finally I managed to lift the Gorshig in the next cell. Gorshigs are blue creatures covered with thorn-like bones that you could hear cracking when I dropped him mid-air. Intentionally, of course. 

I had been working on disconnecting my chip when the revolution began. The leader was said to be Adam though I had never heard of such a person. All the power was cut off. Captives rushed out of their cells and I noticed how many there were. Humans were losing the battle and I thought they needed some help. I started taking as many as I could at a time, six, and ramming them into bits of wood I found on the ground or ripping them limb from limb. Whichever seemed more effective for the demon.

 I was on my eighth batch or so when the slayer approached blonde hair bouncing as she went. So young, yet I had been younger when I joined the battle. She was about to take me when she noticed what I was doing. "Why?" she mouthed, swerving to decapitate a Frendil. Telepathically I explained that while I sympathized for my own kind, seeing innocents killed just pissed me off. 

She nodded toward me disappearing into the mass of demons and humans and unidentifiable body parts. Blood thickened the air, limb from limb I ripped my prison mates until it seemed as though most were dead. But before I left the slayer say me. "Who are you?" she said and I was gone.

Who am I? That's a good question. I will attempt to answer it.

I am Candace, Experimental Vampire, Huntress, and child of the night.

**A/N **Candace is mine. She is slave to my will, creation of my heart. However the Initiative, Adam, the chemical pumping, the revolution, and the slayer belong to Joss. Its my first vampire fan fiction. I sometimes use Candace in Role Playing. If you've heard of her good for you, this explains the shady past I introduce her with. A bit melodramatic yes but it fits the bill. If you have any good vampire RP sites please leave hem in the form of a review. Thank you.


End file.
